The Day After
by Emiko74
Summary: Veronica goes to the Neptune Grande to comfort Logan, after learning about his father's death. Missing scene that takes place the day after the tragic events on the hotel rooftop.


Ding. Looking up anxiously, Veronica stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors slid open and made her way down the long hallway to the Presidential Suite.

The Neptune Grande, for all its luxury and splendor, gave her the willies.

Was it just last night that the tortured, murderous Cassidy leapt to his death? Veronica wondered if the teenager died before or after an unknown assassin crept into another suite, putting two bullets into Aaron Echolls' head.

After Veronica and her dad had made a late morning breakfast of Logan's pancakes, they turned on the television expecting the news to be filled with coverage of the plane explosion and mad bomber Cassidy Casablancas' suicide. Instead, the top story was the murder of Hollywood heartthrob Aaron Echolls.

May he rot in hell, Veronica thought.

But her heart had wrenched at the realization that his father's death left Logan all alone in the world.

"I have to go," she had told Keith, who nodded somberly.

Now, as she approached Logan's suite Veronica suddenly remembered last summer when he appeared at her door in the wee hours of the morning, beaten and broken, after a night teetering dangerously on the edge of the Coronado Bridge. Heart pounding, she quickened her pace and rapped loudly on the door.

Silence.

"Logan? It's me, Veronica," she said. Still no answer.

Bang, bang, bang. Veronica pounded her fist on the door, raising her voice as she called his name again.

"I know you're in there, Logan. I saw Big Bird in the parking lot."

When repeated attempts were met with more silence, Veronica reached into her bag and pulled out the key card Duncan had given her months before and swiftly slipped it into the lock.

"Logan!" she shouted as she took in the living room. A bottle of pills lay on the coffee table. Beer cans and empty bottles of champagne littered every other available flat surface.

Panicked, Veronica rushed towards Logan's room just as the door opened. He stepped out, groggily.

"Veronica?" he asked in confusion. "What's going on?"

A rumpled-haired Logan stood near the doorway, rubbing his eyes. Shirtless, his naked torso was spotted in dark, ugly bruises that contrasted with his pale skin.

"Jesus, Logan. What the hell happened to you?" Veronica gasped, gingerly examining his wounds before she urged him towards the sofa. "Why didn't you answer the door?"

"Uh, because I was sleeping?" Logan grumped, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes.

Veronica started to point out that it was two o'clock in the afternoon, but suppressed the urge to scold. Logan probably hadn't slept much last night, and from the looks of his hotel room he'd spent the morning in a bottle – several of them, actually. But as her gaze drifted to the angry array of cuts and bruises splayed across Logan's body, she felt the panic return.

"So what? You got beat up in your sleep by the big, bad Sandman?" Veronica groused, trying to hide the fear in her voice as she pushed off the couch irritably. She disappeared into Logan's room and emerged a few moments later with a bottle of antiseptic, Tylenol and a towel.

Shaking her head, Veronica banged around the suite, loudly opening and closing cabinet doors, searching for more supplies. I hope his head hurts, she thought, noisily emptying an ice tray into the towel.

"Well? Who'd you piss off this time?" Veronica demanded, as she sat down next to Logan, pressing the cold compress against a large, purple bruise that spread out across his ribs.

"Fuck!" Logan shouted, jerking up into a sitting position. He sucked in his breath at the sudden, sharp pain pushing her hands away. "Jesus Christ, Veronica!" he bit out through clenched teeth. "I didn't piss anyone off, except maybe you. I got this way from rolling around on the roof with Bea…Cassidy."

Contrite, Veronica swatted at Logan's hands and replaced the towel ice pack, this time taking care not to hurt him.

"Logan," she said, softly. "Why didn't you say something sooner? You should probably have a doctor take a look at you."

Logan shrugged. "I was fine until you banged down my door wanting to play nurse," he said, unable to hide a slight grin. "So what are you doing here, anyway? You and your dad…Everything's o.k., right?"

Veronica nodded. Perched on the sofa, she faced Logan and searched his face.

"Logan, I heard about your father," she said slowly. "I just wanted to make sure you were O.K. … I - I got worried when you didn't answer the door."

Logan looked away, silently staring at his hands for a long moment before finally replying "I'm fine, Veronica."

After leaving the Mars apartment that morning, he'd been bombarded by everyone. Trina. Cliff. Lamb. The press. In a fog, he had identified his father's body, then spent the next several hours being interrogated by Lamb.

Truth be told, he was still dazed.

That morning he'd barely begun to process what had happened on the roof when Keith miraculously returned. So when Trina told him their father had been killed, shot twice in the head, Logan didn't believe her. Then, he saw the messages from Cliff and Lamb.

There's no one left now, he'd thought.

"Logan." Veronica's voice was tinged with a familiar annoyance. "You don't seem all that 'fine' to me. I mean, really, popping pills and guzzling champagne until you pass out? That death wish of yours is SO last year."

Veronica meant for her words to be light and teasing, but realized, too late, that instead she sounded accusing.

"Whoa, wait a sec, Veronica," Logan protested. "You know what's SO last year? You, jumping to conclusions. The bottles are from last night's grad party. The pills are some super strength aspirin leftover from the last time I had a run in with your pal Weevil. So relax, I don't have a death wish."

"Then what was Kendall?" The question slipped out before Veronica could stop herself.

Logan groaned silently. This just keeps getting better and better, he thought.

"A distraction?" he replied, glancing warily at Veronica and wondering just where this conversation was going.

She snorted, flopping back on the couch. "Whatever," she said, sheets of blond hair hiding her face from his gaze.

Logan resisted the urge to brush her hair away and sighed. The dim hope that had resurfaced after a night holding Veronica in his arms evaporated the instant she mentioned Kendall Casablancas.

Logan loved Veronica.

He'd faced the truth that he'd never really stopped loving her months ago. But he had botched his confession the night of Alterna Prom and the only thing he remembered from the debacle was the image of Veronica's face as he leaned in to kiss her, just moments before she fled.

And just now, she'd confirmed his worst suspicions that she could never forgive him for finding Kendall in his suite the next morning.

He sighed again, resolving to put a permanent damper on his pipe dream of winning back the lovely, but wholly unattainable, Veronica Mars.

"Why are you still here, anyway, Veronica? Shouldn't you be playing Nancy Drew with your dad or something?" Logan asked, letting sarcasm – his old, standby defense mechanism – creep into his voice.

Veronica shrugged, saying "I told my dad I'd be here for a while. I thought you might need someone to comfort you, or something, and I … I didn't want you to be alone."

"This is you comforting me? Between the yelling and the accusations, I have to say you kinda suck at this," he snarked, leaning his head back against the couch and shutting his eyes.

Veronica studied Logan's face. Normally closed and guarded, last year Logan had allowed her to see him at his most vulnerable. She still vividly remembered the way his face crumpled the moment he finally faced the truth about his mother's death. But the image that most often slipped into her consciousness, was the sincerity in Logan's intense, brown eyes that warm summer night when he'd blurted, "I'm falling in love with you."

Now, Veronica couldn't stop thinking about pancakes and heated, backseat make-out sessions. The way Logan always touched her with such tenderness it made her ache. Veronica also remembered how being in Logan's arms always made her feel safe and cherished and … loved.

Veronica smiled and a jolt went up her spine as she realized something.

She loved Logan.

Beside her, Logan sighed. "You don't have to stay," he said, without looking up or opening his eyes. "I told you I'm fine."

Veronica shifted nervously, stalling as she tried to find the right words.

"Yeah … Well, that's not the only reason I'm here," she finally said, as she stood. "I forgot to thank you for everything you did last night."

Veronica straddled Logan, settling comfortably on his lap before bending her head to brush her lips against his. He raised his head, eyes wide with shock.

"Wh...what are you doing?" he managed to croak.

"Comforting you," she murmured between soft kisses, letting her cool hands roam gently over Logan's chest. "Tell me if it hurts."

For an instant, Logan froze. He knew he should stop her, at least until he could be sure Veronica really wanted him - sins and all. But instead, he reached up to caress her neck, drawing her closer to deepen the kiss.

"Veronica," he whispered her name with longing, in a way that made her ridiculously happy.

They broke apart a few minutes later, gasping for air. She rested her forehead against his and smirked.

"So was that better?" she asked.

"Huh?"

Chuckling, Veronica curled up against Logan's chest, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Me, comforting you. Was that better?"

Logan gazed intently at Veronica, searching her face. Gently cupping her face in his hands, Logan tilted her chin up and kissed her slowly.

"Much better," he said.


End file.
